“I want my arms back. Now.”
This suddenly wasn’t the same guardian who’d rocked her world only moments before. No, this one looked a whole lot like the Argonaut who’d despised her for years.
You’re letting your insecurities get the best of you. He hasn’t changed. He still wants you.
She brushed aside the worry, gently disengaged, and reached for the spell book on the floor. “I didn’t really think it would work. I’ve never cast a spell before. But Orpheus said my link to the Horae might give me extra abilities.”
“Yeah, I’ll just bet he did,” he muttered.
“Here it is.” She found the right page, flipped over onto her knees, and reached for his arms while she chanted the words. Even before she finished the last phrase his arms came down, he rolled away from her, and lurched to his feet.
Torchlight flickered over his toned body. Desire stirred deep in her core as she watched him grab his pants from the floor and wondered how long they had to wait until they could do that again. But then he straightened and the light hit his side just right. And she saw the fine white lines—the scars—all across his hips, his buttocks, and his upper thighs.
She gasped. And the conversation earlier by the fire flashed in her mind.
He pulled up his threadbare pants and buttoned them. “Books, my ass. Just what the hell else has Orpheus been teaching you?”
Her gaze lifted from his legs to his face. And she was startled at the disgust she saw in his features. Features that only moments ago had been flushed with passion and need. “I don’t understand—”
“It’s an easy-ass question, Princess. He’s been teaching you fighting techniques and witchcraft, that much I already know. What have you been giving him in return?”
She gave her head a mental shake, struggled to keep up with him. Earlier he’d used her virginity as an excuse for why he didn’t want her. Now he was insinuating she wasn’t as pure as she was supposed to be? “What’s going on here? I thought—”
“Fucking A.” He raked his hand through his hair. “You really are clueless, aren’t you? You play the virgin exceptionally well.”
Her back came up, and the warm fuzzy feeling she’d been gliding on was yanked out from under her feet. A chill spread down her spine, and suddenly aware of her nakedness she reached for the blanket and pulled it over herself as she stood. “I was a virgin.”
“But not untouched, like you’re supposed to be.”
The repulsion got through loud and clear. She swallowed hard, and images of the Underworld—of Hades—threatened to pull her down, but she pushed them away. “What changed all of a sudden? You seemed to enjoy—”
“You really are stupid sometimes, aren’t you?”
Her head snapped back, as sharp as if he’d slapped her. Okay, yeah, he was having regrets now that all was said and done, but that was a low blow, even for him.
He bent down and whisked the spell book from the floor without looking at her. “Did you even bother to ask why I’ve been keeping my distance? No, because you’re not that smart. If you had, I would have given you the skinny. That warlock you were shacked up with had his band of merry witches cast a fertility spell over you when you were at Thrace Castle.”
His words didn’t immediately register. But when they finally did, her eyes flew wide. “But I’m not…Argolean females are only fertile once every six months and my cycle ended not that long ago. I can’t be—”
“It’s called a spell, Princess. It kinda negates everything else, including biological cycles. And like you proved with your little bondage scene here, spells work pretty damn good.”
No. It couldn’t be. That’s why he kept pulling away? Because he didn’t want her to wind up—
She could barely even think the word. Her skin grew hot and perspiration dotted her forehead as she swallowed hard and turned a slow circle. She was the heir to the throne, single, and now…
Her mind spun with the ramifications of what they’d just done. But instead of being horrified, something warm burst in the center of her chest. If she did end up pregnant, it solved her father’s problem. There would be a legitimate heir to the throne, one the Council couldn’t overrule. And with Demetrius as the father—one of the strongest bloodlines of all the Argonauts—the Council wouldn’t stand a chance at trying to overthrow her reign. Her father had originally picked Demetrius as her mate himself! Okay, yeah, they weren’t bound yet and that created a problem in their patriarchal society, but only if someone found out about her pregnancy before the official ceremony. And so long as they kept quiet—
That warmth zipped along her nerve endings and the worry and stress of the last year began to dissipate. She turned to tell Demetrius exactly what she was thinking and faltered.
His jaw was a slice of steel beneath his skin, his eyes hard black slabs of coal. There wasn’t a single thing friendly about his face, and the way he watched her with loathing, she knew there was no way he found the possibility she could be pregnant “okay.”
“You don’t want to have a child with me,” she said softly, more to herself than to him.
“Why the hell would I?”
She winced. Okay, that stung.
“I thought I made it perfectly clear when your father tried to order me to bind myself to you that I wanted to have nothing to do with it.”
Oh, he had. She remembered clearly the way he’d freaked out that day in her father’s chamber, with all the Argonauts in attendance as witnesses. He’d said he’d rather choose death than be bound to her. And obviously he’d meant it.
A searing ache lit off in her sternum as if he’d taken his blade and stabbed her right through the heart. All the warmth and happiness she’d felt earlier leaked out through that one spot. Her throat grew so thick she wasn’t sure her voice would work, but she had to know. “So this…here…us…It was—”
“One big fucking mistake. Just like I knew it would be.”
The pain slowly dissipated until there was nothing left. No happiness, no excitement, no anger either. She’d given him something she’d considered sacred and he’d warped it into the cruelest moment of her life. And all she could think now was What did you honestly expect?
He grabbed his blade from the ground and brushed by her. But was careful, she noticed, not to touch her in the process. “I need some air.”
He left her standing in the middle of the room, the blanket clutched to her chest, the torchlight flickering over her face and the remnants of the first heroes. It had to be close to morning but she didn’t feel awake, energized, revived. She felt dead inside. As dead as she’d felt after she’d been with Hades. Except then she hadn’t known what it was like to be happy. Or semi-happy. Or on the verge of happiness. Now she did.
Chapter 17
Isadora swiped at her cheeks, tossed the blanket to the ground, and found her clothes. Her hands shook, but she ignored the quiver and dressed in record time.
Forget fantasies of happily ever after. Forget trying to be what everyone wanted her to be. She’d been telling herself the last few weeks that she was the new Isadora, not the doormat she’d been for so long. Now was the time to prove it.
She moved to the ancient trunks and flipped the lids up one by one. Fatigue settled in and she paused to take a breath. It wasn’t from lack of sleep and too much activity, she told herself. It was being away from Casey that was weighing on her, nothing more. And that was one more reason she was determined to find a way home, today.
Renewed determination rushed through her veins, gave her something solid to focus on. She found a small dagger with a black handle in Jason’s trunk, stuck the tip into the belt loop of her shorts, and moved on to the next. After gathering what few items she thought might come in useful out there and slipping what she could into her pockets, she closed each lid, took another deep breath, and headed for the stairs.